Mustang Daddy - A Single Daddy, Small Town Second Chance Romance

by Sienna Parks

  As I reach the door to my apartment I take a moment to reminisce about all of the special moments I’ve had in this wonderful place, my home. I grab a notepad from the console table and scribble a note for Lily before closing the door behind me. I know the first thing she’ll do when she finds out I broke up with Carter - she’ll come looking for me, and I need to let her know that I’m okay, or at least I will be… one day… maybe.

  I hail a cab and head for the airport. I don’t know where I’m going, but I guess I’ll find out when I get there.

  CARTER

  Four Weeks Later

  The sunlight burns my eyes as I awake in a haze. I stink of booze and I’m not sure where I am. I’m not surprised or worried, this has become my life recently – par for the course.

  Every day is the same - one long endless void, flowing into the next. I work, I drink, and I sleep. Sometimes I sleep with whichever random woman offers herself to me on a slutty platter. Basically, it’s back to the good old days for me. As the room slowly comes into focus I realize I’m in a cell. Holy Fuck, what did I do last night? I’m too out of it to care; I don’t care about anything anymore, so I close my eyes and drift off, only to be startled awake by banging on the bars next to where my head is resting.

  “What the fuck, Carter?” Xander? What the hell is he doing here? And why the fuck is my back killing me?

  I slowly lift my pounding head, my vision skewed as I take in the disapproving look on my best friend’s face. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”

  “I got back three weeks ago and I’ve seen you since then. You’re just living in a permanent drunken haze and can’t fucking remember it. I need to post your bail so we can get the fuck out of here.” He returns fifteen minutes later with an officer to open my cell. I get my keys and wallet and head out into the far too bright morning light. He immediately gives me shit. “What are you doing? You need to snap out of it.”

  I see red. “Oh really. Is that all I need to do? I didn’t realize it was so fucking easy. I’ll get right on that.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Carter. I’m trying to help you.” He opens the door to the car, but I just can’t be around him, so I start walking. I associate him with Lily, and everything about Lily is a stark reminder that Addi is gone.

  “Why don’t you just go back to your perfect life with your perfect wife and leave me the fuck alone, Xander? I don’t need to see the fucking pity on your face.”

  “Just get in the fucking car. Lily and I are worried about you. She wants to see you. She asked me to find out where Addi is… and I heard back from my investigator this morning. I know where she is man. Just come back to my place and we can decide what to do.”

  He’s staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to get in the car. Just the mention of her name is like a knife in my chest. “I don’t give a flying FUCK! She gave up on me. She doesn’t love me, so why the fuck would I give a shit about where she is?” I’m shouting in the middle of the street, but I can’t rein in the fury I feel roiling inside me. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

  I start walking in the general direction of my apartment, listening as Xander yells my name, but I just don’t care. Half an hour later I find myself standing outside Cube. It won’t be open for another twelve hours, but there’s a couch in my office with my name on it, and a bottle of Jack in the cabinet that will numb the ache in my chest… at least for the next few hours.

  The pulsing beat of the packed club just outside my office door wakes me from my stupor. I feel like hammered shit as I shuffle into my private bathroom, and the man staring back at me in the mirror looks even worse. Every movement is a major effort for my weary muscles as I drop yesterday’s disgusting clothes to the floor and step under the showerhead, letting the water cascade over every inch of my aching flesh. I rest my throbbing head against the cold tiles, easing the banging of the marching band that’s taken up residence in my brain. I can feel something on my back, remembering that it was sore before I fell asleep, and as I run my hand over my shoulder blades, I have a flashback to the night before – sitting in the chair of a tattoo shop. I rip the covering from my skin; pain and dread creeping through my veins. The night begins to come back to me in a movie reel of events. I left the club early after drinking far too much Scotch and stumbled into the tattoo shop. Oh fuck. The memory of my slurred request is like a bucket of ice water in the face – Tesoro. I want you to write ‘Tesoro’ on my back. Big and black and broken, just like my fucking heart. Jesus… I’m such an idiot. As if my tormented soul wasn’t enough of a reminder, now I have a permanent testament to the biggest mistake I ever made.

  How did I not see it coming? I thought she loved me back. I thought that she wanted me, that she needed me, just as much as I need her.

  As I slide down the tiles to the floor in a crumpled mess, I drop my head, broken, battered and bruised… my body, my mind and what’s left of my useless shell of a heart. Grief takes over. I would have given her anything and everything she wanted in this life, if only she could have loved me. I failed again, on an epic scale. I couldn’t protect myself from Addi, and I obviously didn’t protect her from the demons that continue to plague her. I’m so disappointed in myself. I swore after Vittoria that I would always protect the ones I love.

  The rest of the evening comes flooding back as I curl into the corner of the shower, my arms around my knees as I try in vain to hold it together.

  “Hey, handsome, mind if I join you?” I’m propped up at the bar of a complete dive, the sting of my new tattoo distracting me from the other ache that is now a constant presence in my life.

  “Fuck if I care.”

  “You sure know how to sweet talk a girl.”

  Who the fuck does she think she’s talking to? “Do I LOOK like I need to sweet talk a woman into bed? They willingly drop their panties for me like the good little sluts they are. Is that what you’re looking for, baby? Hop the fuck on.”

  “Asshole.”

  She turns and walks away, but I’m too drunk to care, or to keep my mouth shut. “You’re right, honey, I act like a complete fucking asshole. Do you know why? Because women like you LET ME! Dumb whores that can’t bend over quick enough for me.”

  I’ve attracted an audience now. Four big guys are standing between me and the girl. “I think you need to apologize to the lady.”

  “Pffftt! Lady? Don’t make me laugh.”

  The bartender leans over the bar. “I think it’s time you leave before you get yourself into trouble.”

  The guys now surrounding me seem to be getting larger. “Listen to him... dickhead. Get out before we throw you out on your ass.”

  “I’d like to see you fucking try.” My fist connects with his jaw before he knows what’s hit him. I’m fighting all four of them, punch after punch, taking blow after blow. I’m holding my own with these guys, but I’m out numbered and I’m drunk. Two of them grab a hold of my arms, one on either side of me as a third guy gives me a swift knee to the stomach. I drop to my knees, and just before his fist slams into my face, I hear a siren in the distance. The door opens and in walk two police officers. I slump to the floor when the guys holding me let go, before being I’m hauled to my feet, cuffed, and taken out into the back of the squad car. That’s the last I remember.

  The water turns cold, jolting me back to the here and now. I stare at my body, noticing the bruises, the tell-tale signs of the night before. No wonder I feel like shit. As I step out the shower and grab a towel, I can see my back in the mirror. There in big black scroll – TESORO – in permanent ink between my shoulder blades. Fuck! I will never say that word out loud again. It physically hurts. How is it possible to love someone so goddamn much, and hate them in equal measure at the same time? I don’t know how many times I’ve gone over that night in my head. What could I have done differently to make her stay? If I had never asked her to move in, would we still be together now? So many questions that I can never answer. And even if I could,
it wouldn’t change the outcome. I wasn’t enough for her. I wanted to build a life, and a future, and a family with her, and she didn’t want it… she didn’t want… me.

  I quickly dress in a pair of black jeans and a white T-shirt that I keep here at the office. I don’t even bother with boxers because they’ll just be in the way later, when I find a hot chick to bang. Addi doesn’t want me, but there’s plenty of willing pussy in this city for me to lose myself in, and that’s exactly what I plan to do tonight.

  Her tongue slips into my ear, sending a jolt straight to my dick as I grind against her on the dance floor; her nails digging into my ass, pulling me closer. I swear she’s trying to get off on my leg right here in the middle of the club.

  “Let’s take this to my office, baby.” Her eyes light up, her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she nods in agreement.

  “You can take me any-where-you-want, sailor.” I flinch at the term of endearment, but quickly shake it off. I drag her through the crowds, praying she’ll keep her mouth shut while I fuck her. As soon as we’re behind closed doors she’s tearing at me like a deranged animal.

  “You hungry for me, baby? Why don’t you wrap those lips of yours around my cock?” She immediately drops to her knees, unzipping my jeans, pulling my cock free. “That’s it. Open wide, sweetheart.”

  She doesn’t expect any preamble or pretense of romance, she just does exactly as I ask, fisting the base of my cock before taking it fully into her mouth. She quickly starts pumping and sucking me until I’m rock-hard against her tongue. I close my eyes, distracted by her blonde curls bobbing up and down in front of me. As she picks up pace I can feel myself getting closer, until visions of Addi on her knees flash into my mind. Her luscious lips wrapped around me, her silken black hair flowing down her back as she teased me with her tongue, long, torturous, luxurious licks; the scent of cherries intoxicating me as she worked me into a frenzy. She felt so fucking good. Her tiny satisfied moans vibrating along the length of me.

  “That’s it, Tesoro, take me as deep as you can. Do you feel how hard I am for you, Addi?”

  “My name’s Amy, but…”

  “I don’t fucking care what your name is, sweetheart. I just want to fuck you. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes.” She flicks her tongue over the tip of my cock, moaning her delight.

  “I like ‘Tesoro,’ you can call me that.”

  As her lips return to the head of my cock, I’m shocked and disgusted by myself. How could I call her that? As much as I need to shoot my load right now, this girl’s mouth is not going to cut it. I push her away.

  “Just get out.”

  “I’m not done. Let me make you feel good.”

  “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

  She gets up from kneeling on the floor for a fucking stranger, and grabs her bag. Before she slams the door, she gives me the death stare. “You’re a fucking psycho. I feel sorry for Addi… whoever the fuck she is.”

  I pick up a glass from my desk and hurl it at the closed door. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” It shatters all over the floor. I run my hands through my hair, feeling completely out of control of my own fucking life. “Why the fuck did you do this to me, Addi?” I grab a new bottle of Jack taking a long swig before it joins the shattered glass on the floor. “I fucking loved you. I still fucking do. You ripped my goddamn heart out. Why can’t I hate you?”

  I start throwing anything and everything I can get my hands on; my computer, iPad, even my fucking stapler crashes against the wall as I unleash all the pent-up rage from the past month. I have been so fucking numb, unable to feel anything beyond the crushing nothingness that the loss of her has left inside me.

  “I JUST WANT TO FUCKING HATE YOU!”

  I tip over my desk before picking up a chair and hurling it toward the bathroom door. It smashes to pieces, the door following suit. I don’t even recognize the strangled roar that escapes me as I drop down onto the only piece of furniture left in the room – the couch.

  I take in the devastation that surrounds me, a perfect representation of the agony I feel, every minute of every day. I want her back so badly. With my elbows resting on my knees, I cradle my head in my hands, lost in my own despair. A captive of my own heartbreak. A prisoner of my godforsaken soul. A tear drips down onto my palm, and I finally give in, letting myself feel the crushing loss of, with only a bottle of Jack for comfort. It’s hours before I finally pass out - the oblivion of a drunken sleep, a sweet release from the torment that awaits me in my waking hours.

  ADDI

  Meanwhile

  It’s been four weeks since I left everything behind in New York – my job, my apartment, Lily, and worst of all… Carter. I thought it would get easier as the days and weeks pass by, but it hasn’t. Every day I miss him more, and every day that I don’t hear his voice, a little part of me dies inside. A sick part of me hoped that he would fight for me, that he would text or call, or something, anything. I haven’t had a single message, voicemail or even a missed call from him. It hurts like hell, but I don’t know why I would expect anything different. I ripped his heart out and handed it to him on a platter before walking away from everything we had. That was one of the worst nights of my life.

  The driver is talking to me, but I can’t understand what he’s saying, he just sounds like white noise in the distance. I feel both numb, and completely overwhelmed by the depth of my heartbreak. I’m sobbing uncontrollably, fighting every instinct I have to go running back to Carter, groveling on my knees for his forgiveness. My cruel words play over and over on a loop, and I hate myself more than I ever have. The familiar pull of the abyss is calling to me, where I don’t have to feel anything – a dark lonely place where neither love nor hate can exist. It’s been my safe haven over the years. A coping mechanism to stop the negative from pulling me under like a riptide. There have been a handful of times in my life over the past four years when I’ve contemplated what it would be like if the world stopped turning, if I jumped off the crazy train… if I just… stopped.

  When we pull up at the airport, I grab my bags and slowly make my way inside, taking one last glimpse around me, at New York, before I find a new place to call home for a while, or maybe forever. Airports are crazy places, filled with so much joy and so much sadness. People saying goodbye to their loved ones as they embark on new adventures, and people welcoming their loved ones back with open arms and happy tears. It’s a lonely feeling when you’re surrounded by so much love, and none of it is for you. No one is going to come and wish me well on my journey. No one even knows I’m here, or where I’m going. I don’t even know the answer to that yet. As I reach the desk I realize just how bad I must look. All puffy eyes and mascara smudges.

  “Are you alright, miss?”

  “No… I mean yes, thank you. I’m just sad to be leaving.”

  “And where are you traveling today? How can I help?”

  “I don’t really know. Where is the next available flight going?” The recognition I see on her face kills me. “Within the U.S.”

  “Let me check for you.” She quickly taps away on her keyboard, deciding the course of my life, without even knowing it. “The next flight leaves in half an hour, going to Delaware.”

  “What about the next flight after that?”

  She gives a light chuckle before going back to her screen. “Texas – Boarding in one hour.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know where in Texas? It’s a big State.”

  “Not really. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take a one-way ticket, please.”

  Her professional smile fades a little as she completes my request and hands me my boarding pass. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, miss. Enjoy your flight.”

  “Thank you.” I move at a snail’s pace amongst the sea of people bustling through the airport, eager to reach their destinations.

  It feels like the longest hour in the history of time, waiting to board. I am at war with myself the en
tire time, knowing that until I set foot on the plane and watch it taxi onto the runway, I still have time to change my mind, to try and repair the catastrophic damage I’ve caused. I find a corner to sit in, so as not to draw attention; silent tears rolling down my cheeks. I torture myself thinking about Carter – how is he feeling, what is he doing? Has he found someone to warm his bed for the night? I know that’s what he did when I slept with Colin. Things were so different back then, and the depth of feeling between us now is… was… so much more profound. I contemplate whether I will ever be able to see him again. If the baby looks like him, I’ll never be able to return to New York. If he was anyone else, maybe I could, but he’s not. Lily is married to Xander, and Carter’s been his best friend since birth. If he found out that the baby was his, and that I kept it from him, he would never forgive me. And rightly so.

  Should I just be selfish and tell him? He says he doesn’t want kids, but maybe it would be different with me? Maybe he would thank me in years to come for giving him something he didn’t even realize he wanted? My heart begins to quicken, a kernel of hope in my spiraling confusion. And then his words come flooding back to me.

  “There will be NO children in the near future, if at all. Just let us be. We’re happy just the two of us.”

  “NO, Zia. Cazzo fai madonna. Non spaventarla.”

  “God’s high five to men the world over, every month. You girls think we get upset that you are crabby and teary for a few days, when it’s actually the opposite. We’re just so fucking relieved that we haven’t gotten you pregnant, that we will put up with any level of crazy!”

  Bile rises in my throat and make a mad dash to the restrooms. I barely reach it in time before watching the contents of my stomach spill over into a disgusting public toilet. I think I’ve hit rock-bottom. I really hope my life can’t get any worse than this. If I could curl into a ball and wait for death, I would. But the churning sickness in my stomach only serves to remind me that I’m not just responsible for me anymore. I need to do what’s right for my baby, for Carter’s baby. He or she is all I have left of him, and I will cherish that with every beat of my heart, with every breath that I take. I pull myself up off the floor, wash and freshen up, and then put my well-practiced mask firmly in place to get me through the flight.